I must confess, my enthusiasm for not only your deep oceanic poetry, but also, your eclectic sharing of other resplendent works easily turns me into a total babbling noir gothic vampiric fanboy. I kinda like that condition I fall into so easily at House of Heart. I hope your day remains bright and I do encourage you with all my nebulous being to keep the magic going. 🧛🏻‍♂️

I am constantly digging in that well. Fear not when it gets dark in there. I have a proper flashlight to show us the way back to daylight. All the demons in the well are just former Disney characters looking for work. But, they do add some righteous spookiness to the show. 😁

LoL, and you are wise. I went caving this past summer and followed a small tunnel for a ways into mother earth and the darkness and silence is so complete, it enlivens a primordal part of the brain. I quoted the lyrics to Pink Floyd’s Meddle in my best Lord Geezer voice and it totally creeped my friend out. My voice was crystal clear and came from every direction at once. It was a good opportunity to wet myself from sheer creepiness, but I loved it. I was in my element. We then turned our headlamps on and got the hell out of there just in case I pissed off any demons with my whacked out rendition of Meddle. So, just so you know, when we go diwn the rabbit hole, my mischevous fun nature gets a dose of adrenaline. You’ll be safe though. I carry two lights and two Snickers bars just in case. 🤠🙄

You’re a wild one. That’s chilling! I once dived the natural spring that went down about fifty feet and had a very narrow circumference at Blue Springs National Park ( you’re probably familiar with it) After the first few feet we were in total darkness , one could faintly see the outline or feel other bodies ascending or descending. It was very ghostly and I feared I would panic but made it down and back and swore never again. I had no Snickers.

Oh yes, I went to Blue Springs as a kid and I didn’t do any descending very far because my grandmother told me if I drowned she would have to eat all the icecream by herself. I caved in to the pressure. That was actually a brave thing to do. Diving is a lot harder to convince yourself to do than caving. There are a lot of things where once is enough. Think how cool it would be to have a Snickers at the bottom. Almond Snickers is food of the would be demigods. Never leave home on adventure without one. 😋

It is true. Chocolate can soothe the savage heart and start friendships that last. I actually got the commissary in Kaiserslautern to send me 50 pounds of chocolate treats and I met with some village elders in the Balkans and gave them the chocolate and told them it was for the children. Those men who are as hard as tempered steel cried real tears. We had just come out of a hard winter and many of them were starving and the village had been destroyed by earlier fighting. Those that survived needed calories to stay warm and energetic enough to continue to improve their living conditions. Chocolate is the perfect survival food and we have been handing it out since WWII. Plus, if you like chocolate, you don’t get tired of eating it. That silly act of kindness conquered hate, made friends, gave children and adults a momentary respite from hell. I still hear from them from time to time some 20 odd years later. In an extended way, I have bonded with soldiers and people of many nations under all kinds of conditions over food. The sharing of a meager meal and respect afforded to different cultures has saved a lot of lives and changed a lot of hearts. People sometimes are very curious and ask me how many people I killed. I tell them to ask me how many I saved. That was my real mission. Ah, but I digress. Who knew what power candy bars could possess?

You are a good soul Dan, chocolate is delicious and soothes the troubled heart. A miracle food. I love chocolate but allergy, how cruel can life be? Still I will indulge at times. Gods, Dan, I was in Bitburg and then Spangdahlem with my Dad in 1994 through…..I made many friends, our favorite haunts were in Trier and Paris whenever we could get there. Living off base we had a car and traveled wide and far. I’m glad you returned safely and left a lot of good will behind. Small world Dan. Pass the snickers!

Ouch! a chocolate allergy would be a bit of a curse, especially in western Europe where chocolate and cigarettes are a part of every life, nearly. Yes, we traveled the same roads at the same time for a lifetime it seems. Once I deployed into the Balkans, I didn’t see Germany again until I left. I returned in 2008 as a contractor to train soldiers for their deployment, this time in Afghanistan. It was a totally different Europe and the changing tide sweeping them away has not abated yet. It worsens. But, what a life to live young and free in such a land rich with history and beautiful fairytale lands. And Paris, a travelling feast as Hemingway described his time there. Trier, a Roman outpost turned into a fine wine region on the Moselle River, which I remember well. I’m sure the Romans would be proud of that accomplishment. I’d like to remember Europe as I found it, first as a 29 year old full of wonder and later as an experienced man teaching young men and women how to do what I had done. Thank you, Rene. Goodwill in a mischevous noir wrapper has always been my greatest fun, the greatest part of life. I’m sure you know it well. I happen to have a Snickers right here. Enjoy!

And there I was, daydreaming about your adventures and thinking how much better it would be to read or hear your stories. I know you have some good ones. Thank you from the bottom of my cluttered heart for your kindness to an old vet, but you are no stranger to that life and understand the family’s sacrifice for the honor to be included in the maelstrom of service life. The House of Heart is a balm to those memories that escape the dungeon on ocassion.

I was living the life that was handed me. I did benefit from travel and mingling with different cultures. I had fun. I have friends that have returned from Afghanistan, they don’t really like to talk about being there. You’re an exceptional man leading and exceptional life Dan and a truly gifted writer.

I like to say the greatest fiction I could write is the story of my life. I say that because no one would believe any of it was true. When you push your boundaries and exceed your limits you can find yourself in interesting situations that make good campfire stories. Yes, not wanting to talk about it is a way of getting past what you see and learn. Many things are better left unsaid. I say a lot of it in my writing as do you.

I think putting ourselves in our writing is a good thing. It gives the reader a sense of authenticity. Of course, it can be an emotional thing to do but the more we do it the less sensitive we are to it. I exorcised a lot of demons that way. I try never to extend what I read to the life of the author unless the author expresses a desire for it. Instead I let everything live magnificently in the story. I believe when a character I write feels emotions in the same way as I do or someone I know, it gives them life in my mind and I can take care to try not to be too one dimensional with them.

Desire is a stranger, I love that! This poem just demands attention with its hypnotic words and it’s silent but soundly tone. Your words are beautifully put and I enjoyed the flow….you are awesome Rene.🌹

imagine the lives of Plath and Hughes. Consumed with their art (he found time for outside interests) a disaster though they must have had their good days. I wouldn’t sacrifice anything but then I’m not a poet laureate or getting paid. 😊 thinking on this I am reminded of little Francesca.

If I perceived art, , writing, etc; as my gift and destiny I would be rabid about it. There can be a lot of competitiveness and envy when this obsession is strong a evidenced by the passive aggressive suppression of Mother in her relationship with Francesca. What forgiveness indeed?
I have read there was an strong element of this nature in the Plath/Hughes connection.

The competitiveness would have been unholy I would imagine. Also imagine the whole question of legacy. Plus writers are, let’s face it, are odd fish indeed, always observing, looking for material and editing reality